The Safe Haven
by EM1985
Summary: It had been three years since Thomas and the rest of the "Munies" went through the flat trans and entered "The Safe Haven". When WICKED shows up with shocking revelations; Thomas and the other survivors must decide where their loyalties lie. [[Takes place after "The Death Cure". It is based off the books. ]]
1. Prologue

Prologue

**WICKED Memorandum, Date 232 6.15 Time 09:06**

**TO: My associates**

**FROM: Chancellor Ava Paige**

**RE: Revival of the search for the cure**

When the final Memorandum was sent out, we were in the beginning stages of the retrieval of subject A5. It is with great elation that our progress has been exceptional. Despite the bullet wound to the forehead he is recovering exponentially. The bullet wound cut straight through the middle without damaging his kill zone. The data gathered from this event from the control subject has been groundbreaking. We are ready to continue our search for the cure.

The cure using the blueprints of immune subjects was a failure and success, as previously stated. However, the new information we have obtained will allow us to restart our quest for the cure and enable us to save the rest of the world.

Subject A5 is kept in an induced coma during our testing so that the flare cannot develop any further. These tests have created extensive and new insight into the nature of The Flare.

Do not be discouraged by those who do not understand our methods; now more than ever we hold onto this one resounding truth. WICKED is good.

**WICKED Memorandum, Date 235.9.12, Time 16:23**

**TO: My associates**

**FROM: Chancellor Ava Paige**

**RE: A Breakthrough**

A new dawn is upon us. The progress with A5 has been extraordinary. I could not be happier with the results thus far. The fact that we had never thought to use the concoction used in the "Griever" stingers on non-immune subjects is unfortunate but we cannot dwell on our past mistakes!

The poison of the stinger was meant to affect the immune subjects because of the mutation of the flare virus we had created. When this poison is injected into a non-immune subject they go through a terrible and challenging ordeal. It appears to be horribly painful and traumatic. It is fairly similar to what Group A had called "The Changing". We found that they do not require the antidote in order to survive. Not only do they live but the flare virus ceases to progress any further.

They do not return to being how they were prior to being infected. Further testing must be made in order to revive a world near extinction. Only a small group of healthy people exist now, and we must work to preserve, protect, and restore the rest.


	2. Chapter 1

For three years Thomas and the other survivors had been thriving in Safe Haven. Despite their success; Thomas found it difficult to adapt to their new way of life. The loss and tragedy that led them to their new home weighed heavily on him. He struggled to be around other people. Even the ones he was once closest to seemed to agitate him.

When he wasn't doing his duties; he kept to himself. He found refuge deep in the woods where they left the land mostly untouched. It reminded him of the Deadheads back in the Glade. He sighed wistfully. Every day it became like a fading memory of another life. Yet he missed it more than anything. Even though they were the lab rats of WICKED; they were all together, like family. The ones left were like shards of glass that was hastily glued together but didn't quite fit. Pieces were missing and the jagged edges cut into their skin if touched wrong.

Thomas basked in the cool breeze that hit him in the shadows of the trees as he sat in the tall grass. There was peace in nature that he took advantage of while in the Glade. Footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

"I thought I'd find you here. What are you doing out here?" Brenda furrowed her brows at him but there was worry in her dark-eyed gaze.

Thomas shrugged his shoulders dismissively. He didn't like to talk anymore.

"Thomas. Please talk to me." She pleaded.

Thomas kept a steady gaze on her, taking note that her once long brown hair war was chopped short, but said nothing.

"Why are you cutting me of all people out? I thought we—-" Thomas promptly cut her off.

"Thought we were what? Going to build a life together?" He scuffed. "I thought it was possible-but…" He let out a grunt of frustration and shook his head.

"What? But what? We've had this conversation before! We are over eighteen now. We have to help repopulate the world.I don't get you. You saved us from WICKED and led us to this place, yet you barely contribute!" Her scratchy, husky sounding voice more prominent when she yelled.

Thomas remained silent as he ran a hand through his short, sandy brown hair. Brenda waited just as she always did but eventually let out a noise of agitation and stomped off. He knew she was right, but he couldn't bring himself to move forward from the past. He couldn't go beyond those he lost; especially Newt, Chuck and Theresa.

The day he shot Newt in the head replayed repeatedly in his mind. He closed his eyes to keep the tears from coming once again. He has shot his best friend in the head. How does one move past that?

Teresa almost made it but because she stepped in to save him, much like Chuck did so long ago; she was dead.

'I killed them all.' He thought darkly, allowing the tears silently fall this time.

Occasionally he dreamed of them being here with him. He'd wake up and for a moment swear he heard Newt's voice next to him again. It was more painful than the actual memories. Newt's voice was carried away into the wind as soon as he became fully awake.

His thoughts were interrupted by various shouts. He got up and made his way out of the forest and onto the dirt road that led to their small community.

Upon first glance they were nothing but a campsite that strolled in during the months that didn't flood. One had to look slightly upward to see the community they had become. Houses were embedded into the trees and wooden bridges between connected them together. They winded through the forests all around them, especially during the months where the rains were long and created a large pond below them. They almost built lifted houses like they once did in the south but too many opposed to the disruption of nature. They wanted to avoid another disaster like the sun flares. The latter ultimately won the argument.

Thomas approached a small group. The road had a few puddles left over from the receding wet season.

"What do you mean we're low on supplies? Didn't WICKED set us up completely?" A shrill female voice demanded loudly. She had her hands firmly on her slender waist, her long straw blond hair moving with the wind like a wave.

"Exactly that. Now slim it and listen to me." Minho snapped, crossing his muscular arms across his chest.

'Some things never change.' Thomas mused to himself.

"WICKED didn't provide an endless supply. We don't need those slintheads anyhow! We can figure this klunk out on our own." He stopped when he spotted Thomas out of the corner of his eye just standing here.

His eyes widened and his olive skin turned pale and clammy just as it did whenever he saw Thomas. After a few moments those around him followed Minho's gaze as it landed on Thomas. He froze like a deer caught in the headlights, aching to flee into the sanctity of the forest again.

"Hey, shank." Minho tried to sound casual, but it was strained.

Thomas nodded back to the slightly older man in greeting. Darkness washed over Minho as he narrowed his dark brown, almond-shaped eyes at Thomas.

Then just as quickly it faded again and he turned back to the others, clearing his throat to get their attention as he ran a hand through his short black hair.

Thomas realized he was sweating profusely and his hands were balled into tight fists. Seeing his old friends brought back too many ghosts.

"Do you think WICKED is still around? Maybe they have more supplies-or a cure." A tall, muscular man with dark skin and long greyed hair asked.

Minho let out a derisive snort in reply, "I shucking doubt better not be around." He stated. "And there aint no cure." He added sharply.

"But maybe now—-" The blond woman started.

"There is no shucking cure! I know I was out there and in their complex." He turned to Thomas, "Would you say something for once, you useless klunk?" He barked.

Thomas winced at the tone but said nothing as he turned and ran as fast as he could, retreating back into the woods. He heard arguing and yells behind him but in his mind, he was in the maze again, running freely for hours, ears perked to watch out for grievers. It was the only time he managed a smile.

The expanse of their area was twice the size of the Glade but it was more circular. He looped around amidst the trees, heading back to the hill that he and Brenda stood on that first day. He trudged to the top of the hill and stared out into the valley turned farmland in the dry months and then the beach beyond it. Paradise, he had called it then. Three years had passed and never felt so trapped. He didn't acknowledge the people working on tending to their gardens or those out on the beach fishing with makeshift Spears. His contemplated the lies he told himself that day and the people he left behind in the ruined world. He understood Newt's suicide attempt in the maze now.

"Hey." A voice came up beside Thomas and he snapped back to reality.

Thomas turned his head and greeted Jake with a nod. He was among the Munies who escaped the collapsing maze into the Safe Haven. Striking blue eyes met Thomas' caramel colored gaze. It was as though he could see through him. His muscled arms crossed his chest as he stood with his legs apart. He had a carefree way about him. He was pale in complexion with ginger hair that was tied into a long ponytail. He had a stocky build and stood a bit shorter than Thomas.

"Ran from the angry villagers again, huh?" Jake mused with a relaxed smile.

Thomas grunted in reply. He didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better, remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better…" He sang softly as he dropped his arms and leaned toward Thomas' ear.

A smile twitched on Thomas' lips. He didn't know why the song soothed him so much. He liked to think it had something to do with his parents somehow. He never got his memories back, so he never knew for sure. He turned his head towards Jake, his face inches from his as he gazed into the other man's eyes a long moment. Finally, Jake pulled back and stared out toward the ocean.

Thomas didn't look away. There was something about him that reminded him of Newt. It drew him to him like a moth to a flame. He was the only person he could stand to be around. He clung to the essence of his best

friend with a death grip. Much like with him and Newt; they seemed to share a deep understanding of one another.

"We are running out of supplies. Some are wondering if WICKED is still around and trying to find a cure." Thomas spoke quietly.

"Fuck." Jake furrowed his brows, smile faltering quickly.

"Yeah." He said simply, though his mind was racing.

'What if they come for us?' The thought made Thomas' blood run cold.

Jake went quiet and Thomas couldn't help but wonder if he questioned the same thing. They remained on the hill, side by side, silent but not alone


	3. Chapter 2

Buzz about WICKED and the supply shortage filled the air. It put Thomas on edge. It reminded him of when things in the Glade started to change. A chill ran down his spine, for once not comforted by the memory of his old life. He had an overwhelming sense of foreboding embedded in his gut and every theory was like a fist squeezing at the pit of his belly. He tried to lose himself in his daily chores. It was dirty, tedious work but tending the crops brought him some resemblance of peace.

"Tom!" A voice cut through his thoughts. Brenda glared at him with heaving breaths. It appeared she had been calling his name a while.

He scowled. He wanted to remind her not to call him that. Despite her many betrayals Teresa gave her life for him. The name Tom was only for her.

Brenda rolled her eyes at him in annoyance as she folded her arms across her chest. "We need to talk." She said ominously. Despite her stern expression; there was fear in her eyes.

Thomas gestures with his hand for her to continue but she shook her head. "Not here." She stated as she glanced around at the other residents. The energy was palpable.

He followed her with trepidation. She led him deep into the forest edging closer the mountains beyond them. She stopped finally. Jorge, who was sitting on a large embedded rock stood up quickly as they approached. His smile was forced behind his troubled, hazel-eyed knew he was at least in his early twenties when they met but somehow aged quicker than the three years that past.

Minho appeared beside him with a similarly grave expression. Unlike Jorge; he didn't bother to attempt to hide it.

"Hermano. It's good to see you." Jorge said to Thomas.

Minho let out a derisive snort beside him, glaring at Thomas with a fury that reminded him of how Gally had while in the Glade.

Thomas nodded to them both curtly but said nothing.

Jorge's painted smile fell slightly but said nothing of it. "I brought us together because well, you know why. WICKED making any sort of movement is a bad thing. A very bad thing."

"Like this shuck face cares." Minho grunts out.

Brenda shoots Minho a menacing glare. "We need to find out if they are around still. If they started up again; they could try to find us."

Her words hung in the air like a looming weight pressed down on them. They all wanted to believe it was truly over but deep down they knew that it wasn't despite the fact that they destroyed the flat trans from the WICKED compound. The truth of the matter was, they had created the Safe Haven and it was likely they knew exactly where they were.

"Well that's just shucking great. What the shuck did we bother coming here for if we were getting sucked right back into fighting those slintheads again? Was this some stupid vacation?" Minho started to pace in a small circle, fuming.

"Here's your shucking vacation package but don't worry you'll be back at war watching your friends die again soon enough!" Minho continued; every word was thick with biting mockery.

"Minho, Hermano—" Jorge started tentatively.

"No!" Minho barked out, a furious gaze on Jorge, the fury in his gaze resembling a crank. "No! I won't—-not again!" He pointed an accusatory finger pointed at him.

"We have no choice." Thomas found himself saying. "We have to. For the people who died while getting here. For Newt. Alby. Teresa. Chuck. Everyone who died while we lived. We can't let WICKED live this time, though. We have to kill them all." It was more than what he has said to any of them the past three years.

The other three gaped at Thomas in shock. A piece of his old self had finally surfaced. Except his words were cold and harsh. They were devoid of the moral dilemma of ending another person's life.

Silence hung over them for a few more moments before Brenda let out an audible sigh.

"He's right." She finally stated. "It's the only way. Whatever they're up to is not good."

"And killing them is for what, the greater good?" A voice cut in from the distance. They all turned their heads toward it.

It was Jake. Thomas stared at him absently as he approached.

"I get it. They're evil and have done horrible things but killing them for some so-called bigger purpose is exactly the sort of thing they would do. It would make us just like them." Jake continued.

Jorge furrowed his brows, considering what the younger man had said. "You didn't see what we saw. You don't know….you don't know half of it. We've seen what they're capable of." He shook his head. "Thomas is right."

"Yes. As horrible as it sounds. He is right." Brenda said sad, conflicted expression.

Minho sent Thomas a look that chilled him to the bone. "You're still a useless slinthead but you're right. We got to end this klunk once and for all."

Jake sighed. "You may as well be one of the cranks that are past the gone." He shook his head, turned and started back through the forest.

Thomas frowned, watching as Jake left. He slumped his shoulders, deflating at the thought of Jake being upset with him. He shook it off and turned back to the remaining three.

"Where do we start?" It was too easy to switch back into fight mode. He had a gut feeling that war against WICKED was starting again.

Jorge perked his brows, "Let's not be hasty. Yes, let's end them but we have to plan this out. You know how sneaky they are. For now, let's gather more information and go from there."

"Good that." Minho said, not seeming too eager to jump into war again.

"OK." Brenda said.

Thomas' face contorted with rage for a moment; he could feel himself bubbling with anger. They wanted to wait? For what? For WICKED to capture them all? He wound up his fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He wanted to kill them all. Fury worked up within him, consuming him for a moment. Then he tucked it inside as he had done so many times before. His fists finally uncurled, and he relaxed. That was when he noticed everyone was staring at him with a mix of confusion, concern, and anger. He nodded his head slightly, turned, and started to walk in the direction Jake went.

He thought he heard Brenda behind him but was already running. A sense of freedom moved through him as he swiftly made his way through the forest. It was like being freed from binding chains that had been wrapped so tightly around him he could barely breathe. All his worries were swept away with the wind. His heart thumped out of his chest as he allowed himself, just for a moment, to be.

He slowed once he neared the hill, stopping at the top. Daylight was starting to dwindle but he knew that he had to speak to him. He started to jog down the hill, ignoring the quizzical looks as he made his way across the fields, until he reached the beach. The fishers were already finished for the day. Only Jake occupied the beach shore now. Thomas stopped next to the seated man, panting. He remained otherwise silent as he caught his breath.

"Sit down, already. You know how it makes me nervous when you hover." Jake spoke crossly.

A smile tugged at Thomas' lips as he sat down beside Jake. Neither of them spoke for several moments. Thomas lost himself in the sounds of the waves crashing. He wondered if he ever went to the beach before his memory was wiped. He didn't regret not getting his memories back but there were times where he was curious about who he was before he landed in the Glade.

"Why you?" Jake cut through the silence as he turned toward Thomas.

Thomas turned to stare wordlessly at him with perked brows. "What?"

Jake let out a grunt, "You heard me, _ shank _." He spat out the last word mockingly. "Why you?"

Thomas' hands balled up into tight fists as he glared back at Jake, his face burning bright red. "First off, don't mock me. Second, I have no clue what you're trying to ask so just spit it out." He spat back.

Jake's face fell, visibly deflated. He turned back to the ocean, sighing audibly. "Why do you have to go and save the world? Why can't we just stay here and let the rest of the world worry about WICKED?" He said without another glance in Thomas' direction.

Thomas relaxed a bit, his anger dissipating as quickly as it started. He stared at Jake. "Because a lot of it was my fault. The maze, the trials, the deaths of people I cared about...I am responsible. I have to fix it. I owe 'em this." He explained numbly.

Jake shook his head, "That's the thing, though. You said you don't have all of your memories, right? You have no idea how much you had to do with the whole thing. Beyond that you were a kid! You said around sixteen, right? That's not a legal adult. That's a child being manipulated by the government." He paused a moment. "Risking your life and saving us munies captured by WICKED was by your own accord. You weren't manipulated into it; you chose to do it. You have done more good than bad, Thomas, I promise." He concluded as he brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. The air chilled as the evening breeze picked up.

Thomas contemplated Jake's words. He had a point, but he also knew that he couldn't just let WICKED rise again. What if they started new trials? He couldn't allow what happened to him and his friends to happen to anyone else. Didn't Jake see that?

He sighed, his gaze never leaving Jake's. "I hear you, I do. I can't let them terrorize the world again. I can't. You don't have to come with-in fact I would rather you didn't. You should stay here and be safe." He told him quietly.

Jake snorted, "You can't get rid of me that easily." His eyes bore into Thomas' as he spoke. "Someone has to keep you grounded. Just call me Samwise." He said with an easy grin.

For a moment, Thomas remained quiet, his eyes remaining steadily on Jake. Then he let out a rare laugh. "Good that." He paused, "Just tell me one thing, though. Who the shuck is Samwise?"

Jake perked a brow at him and then smirked, his hands falling to his sides. "Never mind, Thomas. Never mind." He shook his head slightly in amusement.

He was tempted to pry but his mind was too wiped for any new information. A comfortable silence fell between them as they stared out into the ocean. A part of him wished they could sit there forever, shuck everyone else. He felt a pang of guilt hit him like a jab to the stomach. What would Newt say if he were here? He'd tell him to fight, right? Since Newt's death; memories of him seemed to dim as time passed. He hated time and how it seemed to be its own version of the swipe.

They watched the sun go down together, the sky replaced by the stars that twinkled above them. Basking in nature was one thing that seemed to keep the storm that brewed within sated. He turned toward Jake, who seemed equally lost in nature. Thomas studied the way his shoulders slouched as he relaxed. He always looked so peaceful. Thomas envied him in a way. Guilt twisted so violently in his belly he nearly let out a grunt. He turned away, his face scrunched up. He couldn't take that away by allowing him to come with. If he faced WICKED, he could lose that peaceful nature. Or he could die. The thought filled him with dread. He couldn't lose his best friend. Not again.

A voice cut through Thomas' thoughts. "Hey! Hate to break you shanks from your romantic evening by the beach, but we got work to do!" It was Minho.

Thomas turned his head, sending Minho a death glare, his cheeks flushed red. He stood up and brushed the sand off of his shorts. He heard Jake's quick movements beside him. Without looking back; Thomas headed toward Minho with a stony expression and a sense of heavy foreboding that seemed to make every step ache like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 3

A loud engine awoke Thomas from his fitful slumber. He sat up, panting, sweating heavily. His whole body ached like he fought an army. In a way he did. He dreamed of the fight before they reached paradise again. He could feel Janson's scrawny neck in his grasp as he strangled him his bones cracking and breaking beneath him. He had held on until Minho yelled that he was dead. The dream was a vivid reminder of the horrific things he had to do in order to get to paradise. He hated Janson but taking a life like that scarred him in ways he couldn't explain. He shivered even though he wasn't cold.

The engine sound was getting louder. It seemed to come from everywhere all at once. He stood up and nearly slipped in the grass beneath his feet. He forgot he slept in the woods last night after the meeting.

He glanced up into the dawn light, his eyes widening at the sight of the monstrous Berg. For three years not a single machine entered their skies. His jaw dropped, his face paling as he realized what that could possibly mean. He started to run as fast as he could toward the settlement. He could see from a distance that people were already climbing down from their tree houses. They gathered around in a large circle full of shock, awe, and wonder.

Minho's wide, frantic gaze met Thomas' first. He gravitated toward Thomas, who stood off to the side a bit. Brenda, Jorge, and Jake all broke from the pack and headed toward Thomas like he was a beacon, their expressions displaying a varied level of shock and horror. After a moment, Frypan joined them, his amber eyes wide in shock and sweat poured down his dark-skinned cheeks.

"I didn't believe it. I didn't believe it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there." Frypan rambled frantically.

Thomas met the gaze of each of them with a grave expression. In the middle of the crowd he spotted the gaze of the disheveled Gally, who stood taller than most of those around him. His eyes bulged out of his paled, sunken cheeks, amplifying his large nose. 'They must have recently let him out of the mental evaluation center.' He thought. He didn't think he looked much better than when he went in there.

Gally's haunted green eyes bore into Thomas for a few more moments and then he took off running. Thomas' gaze followed his figure as he ran for the woods at top speed. Thomas frowned, feeling both anger and pity for the man.

He stared upward at the Berg stationed in the sky. He wondered briefly if they were seeking a place to land. Then the door creaked open slowly as it hovered above them like a bad omen. A person who was clad in full body riot gear stood in the doorway. He had some sort of weapon on him.

Thomas did not hesitate another moment. "Everyone back inside!" He barked at them.

He wanted to grab weapons, but they didn't have anything to attack the Berg or the man standing on it readily available.

With quick, shuffling feet; men, women, and children rushed up the ladders into their homes. Thomas and the rest of his group took cover in various places, keeping watch on the morning sky. The man in the Berg brought up his weapon and launched a single shot, targeting the dispersing crowd.

A pale man in his early thirties with shoulder-length, dark brown, grey speckled hair fell down with a thump as the panicked crowds cleared the area. Some of them went home while others ran off like Gally did. Thomas stared at the fallen man in awe, unsure what to make of it.

"What the shucking shuck?" Minho exclaimed as his wide eyes bore down the victim.

"We need a weapon to shoot the Berg down with. Now." Thomas responded with a calmness he wasn't aware he had.

"Let me check my ass for that bazooka I always hide." Minho retorted humorlessly.

Thomas stared incredulously as Brenda rushed up the stairs to her own house and returned with a bow and arrow. Thomas nearly smiled at that.

From a covered position Brenda aimed and fired at the man still standing in the doorway of the Berg.

She missed but it was close enough to get his attention. He disappeared into the doorway as it began to close. Brenda let out a growl of frustration at her miss.

The whirring sound of the engine filled the air as the berg came out of being idle. The Berg flew away just as quick and ominously as its arrival.

It was silent again. Thomas let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his gaze remaining on the sky for several moments. Then his eyes fell on the dart sticking from the man's neck. It had a note stuck into it.

No one moved for several moments; their eyes remained on the dart. Thomas finally stood up. "No one touch him. Use maximum precautions." He told them, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

"Fry, Jorge you two make sure that everyone gets to their homes and stay there. Tell them to put on masks and be armed. Can't have a bunch of shanks running around without a clue." Minho barked out.

"Brenda keep an eye on the sky in case they come back. Shoot any shanks you see." He continued.

"Jake keep an eye on that shank hit with the arrow. Don't approach him. Thomas and I are going to get supplies and see what the shuck is going on." No one hesitated to do what they were told.

As Thomas took off into the woods with Minho silently, he couldn't help but wonder what the note said and whether there was something more to the arrow. Anyone who had a Berg had access to advanced weaponry. Once they got deeper into the woods Thomas felt a sense of relief and dread run through him. He was glad to be away from the arrow yet knowing that Brenda and Jake were right by it made him uneasy.

They finally reached the tree with the well-hidden hut built into it. They didn't want just anyone finding it. There was no ladder, so they had to climb the tree to get to the entrance. There was a tiny space inside full of man-made weapons and other supplies. Minho went right for the big weapons while Thomas went to get the hazmat suits.

Once he grabbed them, he went to help Minho who was stashing as many of their weapons as he could on him.

"Who do you think—-could it be WICKED? We already figured they probably know where we are." Thomas mused out loud.

"Whoever they are better not return." He held one of the launchers up menacingly.

"Good that." Thomas found himself saying.

Thomas put the hazmat suits into a large garbage bag and then approached the weapon stash. He stuck guns, knives, and other small weapons wherever he could. They couldn't take everything, but they had to get as much as they could out there. It was a start. Just about everyone had some form of weapon but the best ones were hidden in the tree. They were the weapons they found when they got here.

There were launchers, hand guns, machine guns, metal knives, shot guns, and other weapons they would not otherwise have. There was one weapon that they would not take. It was too dangerous even at the direst of times. All that Thomas knew was that when shot, the target was decimated. Jorge called it a Transvice

Finally, Thomas grabbed a launcher. Minho mirrored him and pulled the bag of hazmat suits over his shoulder.

"Let's go." He stated.

Thomas followed after him silently as they made their way through the woods. His heart was thumping out of his chest. He was afraid he was going to return to ruins upon their arrival. 'What if Jake is dead?' He nearly crashed forward into the ground as he tripped over his own feet. He shook himself out of it once he found his footing again.

Once they returned to ground zero, Thomas was relieved to find that nothing had changed. The guy was still on the ground, out like a light. Minho put down the bag and they emptied their pockets of the weapons they retrieved.

"Put these things on." Minho barked as he started to do just that.

Thomas grabbed one and pulled it over his clothes. Jake rushed over beside him and took one for himself.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jake spoke to Thomas in a low tone.

Thomas shook his head slightly. He was almost certain it was WICKED, but he couldn't bear to make it official by saying it out loud.

Jake let out a low growl. "This isn't the time for your mute shit. Was that WICKED? Why are we putting on this gear?" He demanded.

Thomas stopped dressing and stared at him. Gritting his teeth; he proceeded to get dressed without answering any of Jake's questions.

Jake glared at him in return but didn't pry any further as he put the gear on.

After they were dressed; they eyed the weapons they had sprawled out on the ground. Thomas and Minho had their launchers, so they didn't need another. Brenda traded her bow and arrow for a Glock 17.

Thomas held onto the bulky weapon; his already frayed nerves were shot. He glanced over at Jake, watching as he chose to wield a knife and a Glock 17. Watching him gear up filled Thomas with dread.

Once they were all properly armed, they approached the guy who laid motionless in the ground. The arrow still stuck out of his neck.

They hovered around the man, stalling the inevitable. One of them was going to have to check his pulse.

Finally, Thomas approached. He couldn't stand the anticipation any more. His heart pounded out of his chest despite the hazmat suit. Once he was close enough, he crouched down, launcher in one hand. The man sprung to life just as Thomas got into kneeling position. The man jumped to his feet quickly, staring around at them with bloodshot eyes. Thomas had fallen back on his butt, startled by the sudden movement.

The man's veins looked like pulsating green ropes. He seethed, his bulging eyes making him look unhinged. Thomas froze, a strong sense of Deja Vu washing over him. The man launched himself at Thomas, knocking him down before he was able to act. He hit the ground with a loud thump.

The launcher, that was still in Thomas' hands, put a bit of distance between him and the rabid man. The guy paid no heed to the space between them. He gnashed his teeth as he bent forward, trying to take a bite out of Thomas' face, his teeth gnashing together wildly.

He knew that he couldn't use the launcher on him without harming himself, so he brought back the blunt of the gun and hit him square in the face. It stunned the man long enough to grant Thomas the take the opportunity to push the man off of him with all his might. As soon as the man hit the ground; Thomas heard the familiar sound of the launcher go off. He was close enough that he could feel the heat of the charge. He was grateful he wasn't hit.

Thomas was panting heavily as he forced himself to his feet. He took several steps backward, the man still convulsing with after shock waves every so often.

The arrow was still lodged in the man's neck. Minho stepped forward after he charges dissipated and pulled the arrow from his neck. He once again put distance between him and the infected man.

He started to unfold it, but Thomas stopped him. "Wait." Thomas gestured toward Jake to switch weapons with him. He obliged, bewildered.

Thomas took the Glock and aimed it at the man. He fired three shots off at the victim's head, the sound ringing throughout the premises. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he stared at the body, waiting. He felt eyes on him from all sides amidst the silence. He ignored it and walked forward to the man. He was too bloody to be able to tell where the bullets

hit. Thomas raised the gun again and shot him straight in the heart and then again in the forehead.

This time; scattered screams were heard in the distance. Thomas stood there, frozen with the gun still aimed at his forehead long after taking the shot, his entire body shuddering. In his mind's eye he saw Newt on the ground beneath him.

Thomas jolted when he felt strong hands gripping his shoulders. The gun remained in his hand despite his unsteadiness. Then, just as quickly, the gun was pried from his hand. He glanced around as Jake stood behind him with the gun. Jake put the safety on and set it slowly on the ground as though afraid to make any sudden movements.

Jake drapes his arms around Thomas' middle from behind him and held on. This time Thomas didn't flinch at the touch. He leaned back into it, for several moments losing himself in the rush of comfort.

Chaos ensued quickly around them as people rushed toward the noise, a large crowd forming. Shocked silence filled the air as they saw the bloody corpse lying in the ground.

Brenda, Fry, and Jorge pushed their way to the front, stopping abruptly near the body. They stared at Thomas and Jake with a questioning look. Darkness clouded Brenda's features for a moment and then it faded, replaced with a look of utter terror. Thomas barely hung on to the fringes of his own sanity. If it wasn't for Jake, he would have collapsed.

Someone cleared their throat, breaking the silence. Thomas, along with everyone else, turned toward Miho. "Don't you shanks want to hear what the message says?" His tone dripped with sarcasm but there was an edge to his voice.

He didn't wait for an answer. "We have found a way to stop the progression of the flare. This is the gateway to the cure. Come find us. We need your help. Newt is alive and needs you. We have provided a map. The arrow was a reminder of the world you left behind when you stepped into the Flat Trans." Minho's voice dropped off, the silence became deafening. Thomas' body went limp as the world swirled into darkness.


	5. Chapter 4

Voices surrounded him but they were blurred, disoriented madness that he wanted to run from. He found himself unable to move. His head throbbed as he laid there, discombobulated. He was trapped by the darkness that draped over him like a blanket. He could hear Jake over everyone else, even if only in bits and pieces.

"...Newt...best friend….alive?" Thomas thought he sounded jealous, though he couldn't figure out why.

A rush of memories flooded him, and he remembered what happened and what he has done to that man. He inwardly convulsed as he started screaming at the top of his lungs. The thoughts 'I'm a monster, I'm a crank.' repeated mercilessly in his mind.

He thrashed around violently even though his body laid catatonic, terrified that he somehow stopped being immune. Or he was dying. More words were strung together. It was Minho's voice this time. It was a bit clearer this time, as though Thomas' mind was floating back into orbit.

"...shucked up klunk I ever saw."

"He's not fit….needs to stay here."

Thomas felt his blood boil at the notion of him staying. He wanted to shout and punch Minho in the face. He could feel his hands curl into fists in preparation. Yet he also knew that he hadn't moved at all. He tried to listen closer to the voices around him. It was Jake again. He remembered how he held him right before he fell.

"...means a lot to me….can't lose him."

He didn't think he'd find someone who remotely understood him the way Newt did. Jake had gotten closer than anyone else. Tears rolled down his cheeks as Minho's voice cut in again.

"...can't go...not well…a trap...a lie."

Rage cut through him like a knife; fury built itself in the pit of his stomach. Heat flushed red hot as it made its way through him, building steadily. It burned up through his vocal chords and burst out like a bomb. His screams echoed everywhere, his body thrashing freely. Light hit his eyes as though they were on fire. Blurred figures moved around him in flashes as he released every bit of anguish, sadness, and heartbreak that filled his life ever since he could remember. He mourned and raged for his life, missing memories, and losses. There were so many of them now.

"Newt!" His screams ripped through his vocal chords.

He felt a weight in on top of him as Jorge, Minho, and Jake tried to grasp hold of his flailing limbs. He released another piercing scream, violently trying to escape. He didn't want to be touched. 'Why are they touching me?' He thought frantically.

He could feel them weaken against him. Adrenaline pumped through him as he waged war on the world. He wanted to die. Newt telling him he attempted suicide while in the Glade right before his death flashed in his mind, fueling the fire inside. In his frayed state he tried to reach for his own throat the way WICKED forced Alby to back when they were back in the Glade.

He heard Brenda's voice and then a sharp prick in his neck. Darkness enveloped him again.

Thomas' eyes flickered open, taking a few moments to clear before he took in his surroundings. He was in the recovery center that was built in an area

they cleared. It was a large rectangular, wooden building that was elevated to protect it from the flooding season.

He opened his mouth to ask how he got there but his voice was raw. He remembered screaming but he thought he was dreaming. He tried to sit up, but he could barely move. It felt like an elephant sat on his chest and his arms and legs were strapped to the bed. His eyes widened, panicked by the realization that he was confined to the bed.

"It was for your own good, Tommy…."

He blinked. "Newt?" He managed to get out.

He couldn't see him. Where was he? He closed his eyes, silently wishing someone would put a bullet in his head.

A familiar, rough hand brushed against his cheek and he opened his eyes again. Jake hovered over him with an unreadable expression. Thomas frowned.

"Jake." He croaked out finally.

"Hey there. How are you feeling? Finally remembered my name, I see." His teased, though there was something off about it.

"I feel like a pile of klunk." Every word burned his throat like it was full of acid.

Jake let out a laugh. "You look like it too."

Thomas smiled but couldn't find the energy to respond.

"Sorry for the restraints. You were thrashing and screaming like you somehow got the flare." He pursed his lips together and furrowed his brows, deep in thought for a moment. "It was for your own good, Tommy."

Thomas jolted slightly. He heard that earlier. He thought it was Newt. Maybe it was Jake's voice all along. He was starting to wonder if he was infected.

"Shhh. No. You are fine. Just….shucked in the head." Jake's smile hung like a grimace.

"You sound stupid when you use Glader slang." Every word was an essential struggle.

When Jake punched Thomas in the arm playfully Thomas groaned in agony. It was like every inch of his body was beaten like a slab of raw meat.

"Shut up." Jake retorted with an exhausted, yet genuine smile.

Thomas returned it, a sense of momentary peace washed over him. "Untie...please." He growled, his heart throbbed heavily against his chest.

Jake bit his lip, conflicted. "Not supposed to...but…" He paused, "Fuck it. If you kill me then well, better you than anyone else." As Jake untied him Thomas gaped at him in utter disbelief. Why did those who meant the most want him to kill them?

Once freed he rubbed his wrists a bit, still staring at Jake in shock.

"Relax. It was a joke." He said with a sorrowful look toward Thomas.

Thomas relaxed slightly, though he was still trying to piece it all together.

"What happened?" He finally asked.

Jake chewed in his lower lip intently a few moments before speaking. "You passed out after Minho read the letter. We brought you here. Then when you came to you started screaming bloody murder and thrashing like crazy. Then you...tried to choke yourself. Brenda injected you with a strong sedative." A haunted expression washed over him a moment and then it faded quickly.

Thomas furrowed his brows, disturbed by the whole ordeal. He glanced over at Jake, opening his mouth to apologize, and then shut it again. An apology seemed so fruitless and empty for what he put him through. Jake smiled at Thomas then, seeming to understand regardless. He sat down on the bed beside him. He reached for Thomas' hand and squeezed.

"It's Ok, Thomas. It's OK." He reassured him softly.

Thomas squeezed his hand back as he gazed into Jake's intense blue eyes until exhaustion seemed to take hold and he drifted off to sleep.

Thomas woke to hushed voices near the doorway of his room. The urgency in their voices convinced Thomas to keep his eyes shut.

"How's he doing?" Miho asked in a low tone, a heavily in his tone.

"OK. He didn't seem to remember…" Jake trailed off. "That was scary, and I've seen some shit."

Minho let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. But it ain't exactly surprising. That shank has been through a lot. The things we had to do to get here haunts all of us, most of all Thomas." A weighted silence fell over the room.

"I can't begin to imagine...but that's not your point, is it?" Jake pointed out.

Minho let out a snort. "You're smarter than you look, shank." He paused a moment as though he was gathering what he wanted to say. Thomas remained silent, eyes shut as he listened intently.

"If we go out there and somehow WICKED tricks us and Newt isn't alive...I think it would push Thomas over the edge. Losing him once was hard enough on us but it was the worst on Thomas." Minho continued.

"They were close, huh?" He spoke solemnly.

Minho let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. You know, after we found out that Newt was sent to the crank palace outside of Denver. We were all bent on finding him. When we got there-he told us to fuck off. We never saw him again..." He trailed off, emotion catching in his voice.

Thomas cringed. Minho didn't know about what happened later. He never got over having to kill his best friend.

"Were they…" Jake spoke with uncertainty. "Together? Like...romantic?"

Thomas' eyes nearly shot open at the question. He couldn't figure out why he would ask that of all things! Why would be think that? A word popped in his mind randomly. _ Gay. _It was something from the old world he didn't remember. He didn't think he was, though. He kisses Teresa and Brenda. He pulled himself from his thoughts as he fought to keep still, wanting to hear the rest.

Minho let out a snort, "Those two shanks? Naw. They were both too shucking stupid to admit it to themselves let alone each other. That Teresa had her grip on him for the longest time and then I guess Brenda stepped in and—well that didn't last long." Thomas could imagine him shaking his head in dismay.

"But if you saw those two shanks together—-the way they looked at each other—-we all saw it, but they never seemed to catch on. Dumb shuckheads the both of them."

Once again Thomas nearly bolted up from his bed. What was Minho talking about? Why was he saying all of that klunk? Newt was his best friend, that's it! His breathe rasped as his heart quickened in his chest. He hoped they didn't notice.

Jake was quiet for a few moments before speaking up. "I guess I wondered since he won't speak about him much but the way he called his name earlier…" He trailed off.

He wanted to scream at him that Minho was a slinthead liar and beat the clunk out of him. He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep his eyes closed. After a few moments of seething, he sighed.

Deep down he knew he was fighting something inevitable. At least on his end. He had no idea how the man actually felt about him, but he knew that he loved him since the days spent in the Glade. It was too late now. He didn't get why it mattered now, least of all to Jake.

"Yeah. So, losing Newt again would kill him. I do actually give a klunk about that shank, so I don't wanna see that. We can't trust a word that come out of WICKED's mouths." He paused as though he was pained to say the next part.

"But I know that if there is even the slightest chance….that shank will go to him. Besides, after everything we can't let WICKED start things up. We have to end those shucking slintheads once and for all. For us and for everyone we lost along the way." Minho went quiet. Thomas could have sworn he felt his gaze on him. He remained still, steady.

Jake didn't speak for several moments after that. "You're right. We have to do this. And if there is a chance Newt is really out there, we have to find him." Thomas thought there was something devastatingly sad about the way he said that.

"But there has to be something better than killing them all. Becoming the monsters, we defeat isn't winning." He pointed out, his tone forced and on edge.

Minho scuffed. "If you come up with something better, I'm all ears, shank."

He retorted. "You shouldn't wait until it's too late either, you know. You saw what it was like when we left. Who knows what is out there now!" He added.

Thomas frowned, unsure what he meant by that. What was he talking about? There was a strange flutter in his chest.

"What do you mean?" Jake snapped with anger that surprised Thomas.

Minho let out a growl. "You dumb fucking shank we all know you love him! We see you two and it's like happening all over again! You shanks got to stop pretending sometime before it's too late! Grow up you fucking shuck-heads!" He paused, "Yeah I know Thomas. Stop pretending to sleep before I punch you in the balls!"

Thomas' eyes shot open at that. Jake and Minho were staring at him. Minho was seething and Jake looked incredulous; his cheeks were as red as his hair.

Minho smirked suddenly. "Guess you shanks got some important klunk talk about. But don't take too long. We have to rest up. We leave tomorrow morning at dawn." He waggles his finger at them and then left.

Thomas and Jake stared at each other like two deer caught in the headlights.

Finally, Jake broke the silence. "I'm sorry. He—I—-" Jake stammered out with uncertainty.

Without another word, Thomas forced himself to sit up in his bed, gesturing Jake with his finger. Bewildered, Jake moved over and sat down on the bed beside Thomas, unable to speak. Thomas reached out for Jake's shirt with both of his hands and pulled him in close, his lips crashing into Jake's roughly. Jake froze at first but then eased into it, wrapping his arms around Thomas' waist and sunk into the kiss.

When they finally separated, breaths heaving, Jake climbed in bed with Thomas, much to the chagrin of the medics. Thomas laid his head on the other man's chest as Jake wrapped his arm around him and held him as close as he could. He didn't leave Thomas' side all night.


	6. Chapter 5

Thomas woke up in the hospital bed, alone, the following morning. He frowned, wondering where Jake went.

Once released he didn't waste any more time. He needed to talk to the others. Brenda, Jorge, and Minho were by the tree with the weapons, packing their bags.

He glanced around, "Where's Frypan?" Thomas inquired.

Minho slammed a can of non-perishable food in his backpack with more force than necessary. "The dumb shank ain't coming."

Thomas' brows shot up in surprise, "Why not?" That didn't sound like Frypan at all.

"Cuz he's a shuck-faced coward!" Minho spat out.

Jake approached the group and rolled his eyes. "Please. He explained himself. He said someone has to stay behind in case something else happened and it was no good for anyone if we were all dead. It wasn't cowardice. He's right. Some should stay." He stated simply, sending a pointed look toward Thomas that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

Minho scuffed but said nothing more. Thomas understood. This was more or less a suicidal mission, just like before. It would be pointless if they all died. He didn't bother trying to explain this to Minho. It was difficult to change his mind once it was set on something.

"Have any of you shanks seen Aris lately?" Minho cut through his thoughts.

Thomas blinked. He hadn't seen him in a long time. He kept to himself most of the time. He was reclusive, like Thomas. Yet he was nowhere to be found when WICKED showed up. Something about it tugged at Thomas. It rubbed him the wrong way like Gally's wild eyes in the crowd. Where had Gally run off to that day amidst the panic?

Thomas pulled himself from his thoughts, "I haven't seen him…"

A voice cut through behind them. "I'm here." Thomas turned toward the voice. It was Aris.

Thomas gawked at him a moment. Aris' dark hair was down to his shoulders, a stark contrast to when he used to cut it rather short. He had a goatee, which contrasted his strikingly youthful face. He was lanky and tall as always but considerably more built than before. Aris smiled easily at the group.

"I'm here. Fry told me what's going on. I want to come with. I want to help." Aris stated, his grey eyes focusing on them one at a time.

"Oh yeah? And why should we do that, shank? Not like you came to help when WICKED attacked." Minho spat out.

A wounded look crossed Aris' features at Minho's outburst. Thomas almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Minho had a point, after all.

"I-I freaked out. I couldn't….but now I know I need to help. I have done so much harm…" He trailed off, gaze on the ground.

"Happy to have you join us, hermano." Jorge finally cut in.

Thomas turned to stare at him. Jorge shrugged his shoulders absently, "He is the only other one left that helped build the maze and unlike Thomas, his memories are intact, right?" He perked a brow at Aris.

Aris nodded shyly.

"The shuck ever just...someone fill him in on the plan." Minho said and then went back to work, grumbling to himself.

"I'd like to hear this myself." Thomas interjected.

Minho threw his bag on the ground and stalked toward Thomas, grabbing him by the t-shirt and lifting him up a bit.

"You listen up, shank. You ain't going anywhere. You ain't stable."

Thomas grabbed hold of Minho's hands and pulled then off of him. He pushed him backwards, hard. Minho stumbled back a bit. It took him a few moments to recover enough to speak.

"I know what I said, shank. This don't apply to you. You are better off here. Been trying to convince Jake to stay with you too." He growled out.

"I'm just as useful as Aris even without my memories and you know it." Thomas snapped back.

An unreadable expression crossed Minho's features and then he turned away. "If you get us killed, I'll shucking kill you." He hissed.

He picked up his bag and stalked off uttering a slew of curse words.

Thomas stared after him a moment, hurt by his friend's lack of faith in him. Especially after everything they'd been through. He turned back toward Aris who looked puzzled by the whole thing.

Jorge walked up behind Thomas and clasped his shoulder tightly, "He's got a point, hermano. You have been less than stable. You saved all of us already once; you aint obligated to do it again." He pointed out.

Thomas knew they both had a point, but he couldn't take it anymore. He cleared his throat loud enough to get the attention of those around him.

He scuffed; a sardonic smile pressed across his features. "Alright, listen up shanks because I'm only gonna say this once. Yeah, I'm a recluse with a bad attitude and a temper, but I also know that this is important not just because of WICKED but—cuz this is Newt. If he is alive, I have to help him. I have to." He spoke with conviction as he swallowed his tears. He never told anyone about shooting Newt, least of all Minho. The guilt of it nearly killed him.

He snapped back from his own world to everyone talking at him at once. He stared at them with a bewildered look as he tried to decipher what they were all saying.

"This is why you shouldn't go! You are a ticking time bomb! I am afraid for you!" The first voice was Brenda's.

"You're gonna get us all killed you slinthead. That won't do klunk for Newt." Minho spat out.

"Maybe you should stay here. I'll stay if you do. You don't always have to be the hero." Jake cut in.

Thomas finally lost it. "Shut your shuck mouths! I'm going and that's that. Now what is this plan you made up while I was asleep?" He barked.

Silence fell upon the group for several moments before Minho spoke up.

"WICKED gave us this shuck map to lead us to them. We are gonna go their way but then we are gonna use the Transvice to kill them all and find Newt if he even is alive. Never did see him after the crank palace." Thomas felt a pang of guilt at the last part.

"And I already said it was stupid and would make us just as bad as they are." Jake interjected with furrowed brows.

"What do ya think we should do, shank? Enter WICKED and ask real nice if they'll free our friend, who may or may not be there, and let us go on our merry way?" Minho let out a derisive snort at the notion.

"No, asswipe, I don't. But we need to come up with something better than that before we leave." Jake hissed through his teeth.

Thomas stayed quiet, trying to gather his own thoughts, his own ideas racing through his mind. He closed his eyes, blocking out the rest of them a moment as he contemplated their situation.

WICKED was basically the government. They were everywhere. They probably had bases across the world, or whatever was left of it. The main headquarters blew up at the hand of the Right Arm as he and the rest of the Munies escaped through the flat trans. He furrowed his brows, wondering how they ever thought it was over. Especially when the place was basically fluffed for them upon arrival.

He groaned at their arrogance, rubbing at his temples irritably. Minho's plan was the only way.

"Minho's plan is the only way." He said out loud this time. Stunned silence filled the air.

"WICKED holds all of the cards and they will never stop. They'll search for a cure that doesn't exist and not care who dies in the process. Those final moments before we entered the flat trans Janson was still trying to get me upstairs to take my brain. He was infected with the flare but for all we know they were going to do just that. They're monsters and should die." He paused.

"Still. Just killing the shucks at this location won't stop them. We will need to find their other bases and kill them all. Kill them all and utilize their resources for ourselves. We could have all of their weapons, knowledge and technology. No more floods and living in trees. We could find a better place to live and survive WICKED's resources." He stopped, taking in his own words as he said them. He believed every word spoken.

It was silent for several agonizing minutes. Thomas met the gaze of each one of them in a silent battle. Except for Jake. He couldn't bear to look at him right now. He knew he probably thought he was a monster. Jorge's expression was unreadable while Brenda, who stood beside him, looked conflicted. Aris' jaw sagged, staring at Thomas, horror-struck. Minho nodded his head with a grave but determined look on his face.

"That is—-Thomas—-you don't understand how much of your plan sounds like them." Aris spoke up finally.

Thomas glared at him. "Oh yeah?" He said forcefully.

Aris visibly winced at his tone. "It's—-it's like when we went through and did the purge. We killed all those infected employees with poison. It was horrible. I get why we did it, but you were never the same after. It was bad." He explained.

Thomas frowned at Aris. When he got bits and pieces back from getting the swipe removed, he promised himself he'd never think about it again.

Minho gaped at Aris, "When did that happen?" He exclaimed loudly.

"Not that long before Thomas entered the maze." Aris stated.

"Why would those slintheads send a bunch of 16-year-olds to do such a shucked-up thing?" Minho interjected.

When Thomas glanced his way, he saw the former leader's skin had paled as he stared at Aris with a haunted expression.

"We were the only Munies." Aris distantly replied.

Minho shook his head but didn't say anything else. The memory jarred something within him, but Thomas knew that it didn't change anything. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't want to become the government of a world full of cranks. He figured they were all shucked. He thought of the Munies in the paradise and how this could free them from WICKED and allow them to build their own world.

"There isn't another way." He turned to Brenda in surprise. She had tears in her eyes as she spoke. "Thomas once told me how the past didn't matter, and we just have to move forward and do what we have to. This is what we have to do. It's how we will survive. We all know that the supplies that WICKED sent with us wouldn't last. We need medicine, tools, toiletries among other things. We were never going to just thrive here alone, and they knew that." She sniffed and wiped her eyes; her jaw set with stubborn determination.

"I think we all knew that deep down. I mean, WICKED knew better than to let us just be on our own. They want us to restart the world, but they also want to make sure that we are within their grasp. I mean, look at the map!" She glared at Minho until he begrudgingly pulled out the map and opened it up.

She pointed at it, "They are what, 50-60 miles away from us? In the same state, no less! We are back in Colorado! They have kept us under their thumb this whole time, but we were too arrogant to realize it." She stopped and fell silent.

Thomas looked at the map for the first time and realized that what she said was true. It strengthened the conviction of his own plan.

"We could always listen to them and see what they have to say. Maybe they really are close to a cure." Jake piped up.

Thomas and he locked eyes. Jake stared at him as though he was a stranger. It hurt Thomas more than he realized it would. Jake's expression changed; he was visibly fuming.

A part of him wanted to grab Jake and kiss him as though somehow that would make things OK again. Thomas' gaze was devoid of anything but sadness. Jake's hope crushed him because he knew better than to have any when it came to WICKED or the cure.

Jake turned away finally.

"You dumb shuck if you think—-" Jorge cut off Minho quickly.

"Everyone makes good points, but we need to figure out what ours is and what we are willing to risk or give up getting there." Jorge interjected.

"Meanwhile we are losing light and time we could be using to save Newt." Thomas found himself saying.

"We save Newt and then decide what we do." Thomas continued.

"I will say this, though. If they lied about Newt and he's not there; I will kill every last one of those slintheads with or without the rest of you shanks." He spat the last part out with the venom of a poisonous snake.

He turned his back to the stunned silence of the others and went to prepare himself for the road ahead. As he put distance between them, he distinctly heard Minho loudly state, "Good that." Thomas nearly smiled at that. It was all the confirmation he needed.


	7. Chapter 6

They studied the map for the next few hours, trying to figure out what to bring on a trek that consisted of mostly forest. They weren't sure if there was an actual trail to follow or if WICKED expected them to hack their way through it. One could never tell with them. They decided that they needed at least one launcher and tools to cut through the forest. They were going to wear or carry the rest in their packs.

Other than planning the road ahead; everyone slipped into sullen silence. Thomas was relieved that no one wanted to have a significant conversation with him. He glanced up at the sky as the sun began to set and frowned.

"Wasted a whole shucking day." He muttered to himself.

Brenda, who was nearby, glared at him. "Yea to prepare, Thomas." She paused, her expression softening. "We'll get there as quick as we can manage. We can't travel through wooded areas in the dark. One of us, probably Minho, will fall on their face." She smirked at the last part.

"I shucking heard that." Minho said as he passed, though Thomas could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile play on his lips.

Brenda stuck her tongue out at Minho playfully and then turned back to Thomas. "I know...and I hope…." Her expression turned sullen. "I hope we find him." She finished sadly.

Thomas simply nodded. He didn't want to talk about that. He got up abruptly and pulled his pack onto his back. He trekked into the woods away from the group so he could get some real sleep. He had enough social interaction for one day. He could feel Brenda's gaze bear down his back as he left but he ignored it.

"At least eat with us!" She called out to him.

He didn't look back. He headed deeper into the woods. He walked until the voices of the others was distant background noise. The sun was setting quickly so he knew he had to hurry up if he wanted to properly hunt.

He picked a spot and pulled the shotgun out of the bag and dropped it on the ground. As he took the safety off; he heard movement nearby. He was about to aim the gun when someone appeared in the quickly dimming light. Thomas jumped in surprise.

"You startled me." He growled out.

"Poor baby." Minho spat at him.

Thomas glared at the man silently. "Near shot you." He pointed out gravely.

"Luckily you didn't. I'd shucking kill you." Minho quipped back.

Thomas rolled his eyes at him as he raised his gun outward. He stared into the forest quietly, losing himself in the art of hunting animals, ignoring Minho again.

His head snapped toward Minho when he cleared his throat noisily. Thomas sent him a sharp look. "What!" He hissed through clenched teeth.

"You need to come and make a speech to the group. You gotta set these people at ease before we go. Everyone is all shucked up over what happened." Minho's eyes flashed angrily at Thomas as he spoke. "It's the least you could do, slinthead." He added in a low growl.

"You do it. You're the leader." Thomas pointed to his neck where WICKED inked the tattoo on him before the Scorch Trials.

Minho touched the tattoo absently, glaring at Thomas, momentarily speechless as his cheeks flared a rare red. "Shuck you ya shuck-faced slinthead!" He yelled at him and then turned to leave.

Thomas felt a pang of guilt, "I'm sorry, Minho." He spoke into the near darkness. "I don't know why I said that." He slumped his shoulders, eyeing the man's back with a guilty expression. "I'll come."

Minho paused, back arched. Thomas thought for a moment that he might turn around, but he didn't. He stalked back to the main camp. Thomas hesitated as he watched Minho walk away. Finally, after securing the safety on his shotgun, he slid it into his pack. He picked up the bag and reluctantly followed behind him.

The other people in the Safe Haven were gathered into a crowd away from the treehouses that resided behind them. All eyes landed on Thomas as he approached. The area was lit by candle lanterns hanging from makeshift poles made out of wood.

Thomas took a deep breath as he stepped in front of them, his gaze following the former leader. Minho didn't look his way as he went over to where Brenda, Aris, Jorge, and Frypan stood. He frowned as he realized he didn't see Jake anywhere.

Thomas cleared his throat to quiet the chattering around him. It made him dizzy. "I know you must be scared. The last few days have been crazy. Everything seems all shucked up." He paused. "That's because it is. It's all shucked up because our supplies are low and WICKED knows where we are. But me and some of the others who fought to get us here are going to check it out. We are gonna kill WICKED once and for all and use their resources, so we never have to worry about this klunk again." Thomas went silent as a pandemonium of voices erupted around him. He turned, drowning everything out and started back toward the woods.

He stopped abruptly as Frypan appeared in front of him with a grave expression. "Inspiring as always, Thomas." The sarcasm in his voice was thick. "Stop being a shuckhead and eat with us. We are taking our meal to the beach." He added, narrowing his gaze.

Thomas was glad to know that food was still serious business to him. Thomas let out a sigh, refusing to look at the rest of the people as they finally started to disperse, fear marked in their voices. Thomas couldn't blame them but there wasn't anything he could do about it at the moment. They were just going to have to slim it on their own for now.

Thomas wearily headed toward the beach. It felt like a month had passed by even though it had only been a couple of days. He got partway to the beach when he heard rustling in the trees. He paused, pulling his pack off his back quietly and unzipped it, careful not to drop it.

He pulled out his torch, zipped the bag back up, and swing it onto his back. With his free hand he reached for the Glock that was in the front of his pants.

He waited in silence. A twig broke to his right and he shifted his body toward the sound. He switched on the torch but pointed the light toward the ground. He tensed when he saw a shadow moving through the woods.

He held the torch up with one hand; the other one sporting the gun. He turned the safety off. The figure kept moving forward, identity unknown.

Ever since WICKED showed up; he was more on edge than usual. He never thought they were fully safe. His finger hovered over the trigger as movement continued. The light of his torch danced in the darkness, but they managed to keep directly out of the light.

"Whoever you are show yourself or I'll shoot you." Thomas finally spoke into the darkness.

There was laughter in the distance. "Like to see ya try, shank." The raspy voice replied as it came closer.

The figure stepped into the light; his eyes widened in surprise. "Gally?"

"Yeah. Bit jumpy tonight, Thomas?" He mocked.

"Shuck off. I am not in the mood." He sighed in relief that no danger presented itself.

He could see Gally's sneer in the torch light. "Just teasin', Thomas." He stopped as he stood in front of him.

"Where have you been?" Thomas asked leerily.

Gally frowned. "Hiding. Same as you. Except I seem to be better at lying low." He said with a roll of the eyes.

"Good for you. What do ya want?" Even though Gally and Thomas let bygones be bygones long ago; there was still palpable tension between them.

"Need to show ya something." With that he started to walk back toward the tree settlement.

Thomas' mouth gaped open in shock. He was tempted to shout after him, but curiosity eventually won out. He turned the safety back on, put the gun away and followed after him.

Gally led him to one of the houses in the trees. Thomas climbed up after him and waited as Gally unlocked the door, opened it, and pulled out his

own torch to shine into the pitch-black room. He used the torch light to lead him to the lantern. He grabbed his lighter and ignited the flame inside.

Gally lit the rest of the lanterns; illuminating the room. The room itself was plain-looking. There was a bed in the far-left corner with a handmade dresser nearby and the kitchen was located in the right corner. Straight ahead there was an ugly, worn green couch and a rickety desk with a small wood chair in front of it pressed against the window.

Gally disappeared into a room to the left and reappeared with a tiny box, took it to the desk and sat down. Thomas wordlessly came up close to the other man and stared at the box blankly. Was it another clue?

Gally handed him a pair of disposable gloves. "Put those on." He instructed gruffly.

Thomas was more confused than ever but didn't argue. Gally put his own on, took out a key and unlocked he box, opening it. Inside there was a dart. He gaped at it. That looked exactly like the—

Gally Interrupted his thought process. "Yeah it's the one that was in the shank I hear you shot dead." Gally's expression was unreadable.

"Yeah..." Thomas said with uncertainty, his gaze studying Gally's scarred, deformed face.

"Well see, while you played Rambo, I collected it and brought it back here to study it." He explained. He waited for Thomas to jump in. When he didn't, he continued.

"It definitely looks like it was the same liquid as the poison from the Grievers." He paused, allowing Thomas to take that in.

"Great. So what?" Thomas retorted. It was what they had suspected.

"So! Rumor is that a note and a map from WICKED came with it." Gally spat back irritably.

"Yep, That's true." He confirmed. "Get to the point, will ya?"

Gally scuffed, "Well it seems really convenient that they show up just as our supplies start to get low, right? Which means either some shank has been in contact with them or they've been spying on us the whole time." He pointed out. "Maybe both. After all, much of Safe Haven was built before we arrived, just like The Glade." He somberly added.

Thomas' eyes widened in shock. Why hadn't he thought of that? Chills ran down his spine as he considered it. Both scenarios meant they were shucked.

He stared down at the needle. "How can you confirm it is the poison from the Grievers for sure?" He frowned, a thought just occurred to him, "And why are you acting so normal? I saw you….and you looked…" He trailed off as he felt something prick against his skin.

"Sorry Thomas we need you to get stung so we can give you the grief serum. Shuck knows why they left it here in the first place but Aris found it in the supplies." He paused, clearly through something in his head. " We need you to remember the rest of your memories and this is the only way we know how without the swipe." Gally finished.

Thomas held onto Gally's voice for as long as he could until he faded into blackness.

"It's for your own good..." The words swirled around Thomas as he fell into a pit of darkness.

It was different this time. He was falling through endless blackness. He felt the wind cut through him like a knife as he moved downward without any feeling of progression. It was like he was falling in place repeatedly.

Then it transformed into a thousand images around him and memories flooded back to him in a single instant, overwhelming him. He cried out as a sharp pain went through his head and everything became white noise.


	8. Chapter 7

He woke up to shouts surrounding him.

"You fucking slinthead! We were supposed to leave yesterday!" It sounded like Minho.

"Yea well this was more important." Gally rasped back.

"We were worried when we couldn't find him…" Jake cut in.

"We can't really beat WICKED without this shank's memories. You gotta know that by now." Gally stated.

"He could have died!" Brenda exclaimed in a forceful tone.

"We had the Grief potion. It would have been pointless otherwise." Gally said dryly.

The unmistakable sound of skin on skin cut through the voices; Thomas heard the scuffle near him, wherever that was. He didn't dare open his eyes; the pain in his head pierced through his head like daggers. This time he didn't feel any memories fade. They were coming in quickly, overwhelming his senses. He let out a groan and slipped back asleep.

_Newt smirked at him as they sneaked through the halls of the WICKED compound. _

"_Wait up." Thomas hissed loudly to his friend._

"_You're too bloody slow, Tommy." He retorted playfully._

_Newt stopped suddenly; eyes wide as saucers. He grabbed Thomas' hand and pulled him into a room. "Duck down!" He hissed._

_Thomas' breath quickened and his heart pounded as he instinctively did what he was told. He wasn't sure if it was because they were almost caught or Newt's hand lingering in his. He leaned his head against the door as he slumped to the ground. They seemed to be safe for the moment. _

_Newt slid down next to him; only the sound of their heavy breathes filled the silence. They remained this way, hand in hand, for several moments before Newt quickly pulled his hand away._

"_Sorry." He muttered quietly._

_Thomas shrugged slightly. He felt a pang of disappointment for reasons he couldn't fathom. When he glanced up, he realized they were in a large lab with a dry erase board. It stretched across the expanse of the plain white back wall and was full of writing and formulas, most of which were foreign to Thomas. _

_There was a round grey conference table with large, black leather chairs all facing the board. Thomas vaguely heard Newt following after him as he moved closer to the board. He was mesmerized by what was written, even if it was beyond his comprehension. _

_Newt ran into him as Thomas stopped abruptly in front of it. Newt let out a grunt but didn't otherwise acknowledge the collision. Thomas remained silent as he stared at it in awe._

"_Look at this, Tommy." Newt stated. "It says that the serum reverses the effects of the mutated virus metamorphosis (or Grief Serum) and allows memories from the swipe to return." He furrowed his brows, "Whatever that bloody means." He shook his head._

_Thomas stared at it in utter confusion. "Yeah…" He said vaguely. What did it mean? What was it?_

"_Look down here. It says, 'Test conducted on subject A24, "Gally" to confirm the effects of both the Mutated Virus Metamorphosis (or Griever)_

_and the Grief Serum. Memories were wiped afterwards for the sake of the subject and the trials ahead." Thomas read off, pointing at the board._

"_What is a buggin' Griever?" Newt's eyes widened slightly._

_Thomas gulped, but didn't answer. Thomas remembered all too well the monster that he, Rachel, Aris, and Teresa were forced to watch torture Minho after his and Gally's failed escape attempt. The creepy creatures were not easily forgotten. He turned back to the board, studying it._

_He could feel Newt's eyes on him, but he didn't turn to him. He knew if he did, he'd tell him what happened. He had a gut feeling it would be a mistake if he did._

_Another thought occurred to him, causing his face to pale, "So…they experimented on Gally and then erased his memory?" His mind raced. What if they did that to the rest of them?_

"_Bloody looks that way." Newt's face had paled at the implications. "The Griever has been programmed not to sting anyone who isn't immune." Newt read off._

_Thomas eyes blurred, making it impossible to make out any more of the words written._

"_I guess something good came from not being buggin' immune like the rest of you." Newt remarked._

_Thomas frowned, his mind turning to the maze. It was only days away. He couldn't help but wonder if somehow, someway this was connected. They wouldn't allow one of those to sting them, would they? He knew they would be there, but they wouldn't harm them, right? There was a brief moment he wanted to tell Newt everything he knew pertaining to the Grievers and the maze. It passed quickly. He knew he couldn't do that and mess everything up. Besides, Thomas couldn't imagine WICKED putting them in real danger. He refused to believe in such a thing._

"_Tommy?" He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Newt._

"_What do you think this is really about? This whole buggin' thing is insane. First those bloody...cranks trapped down there, and now this?" He visibly shuddered. "It's all wrong, Tommy. Everything about this is wrong." He eyed Thomas, brows furrowed into a frown, about to speak up again, when they heard footsteps in the hallway._

_They darted under the conference table and curled up in front of the pushed in office chairs. Luckily the footsteps passed quickly._

"_Let's get out of here." Thomas spoke breathlessly._

"_Best bloody idea you've had all night." Newt returned._

_They got up out from under the tables and headed for the doorway. "What do you think would happen if someone not immune would get stung?" Thomas mused out loud._

"_Let's hope we never find out." Newt returned._

_They ducked quickly under the window as another pair of footsteps seemed to be coming toward them. Thomas prayed that they wouldn't enter the room. Newt and Thomas crouched down, shoulder to shoulder as they waited, breathes held in anticipation. The shoes clicked by and faded into the distance._

_They both let out sighs of relief, chests heaving. Thomas glanced at Newt a moment, his heart fluttering. They were quite close in proximity. Newt turned his head, dark brown eyes fixated on his. Thomas remained silent, his stomach clenching. His heart pounded so loud; he wasn't sure he would be able to tell if someone was coming. _

_Newt's expression was unreadable as he stared back, both of them bearing their soul to each other for an instant. For a moment Thomas had the urge to kiss him. He quickly pushed it away. He didn't know where that came from._

"_We should get out of here. Can't stay here and wait for them to come for us." Newt turned away as he broke the silence._

"_Right, yeah. Let's go." Thomas agreed, his gaze on the door now. They peeked through the tiny window to make sure no one was coming before slowly turning the knob to get out._

Thomas' world went black again as the memory faded into the abyss. More memories rushed in like short films. One after another they filled his mind, overwhelming his senses, consuming him. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore; it stopped, and everything was still.

He awoke to silence this time. He groaned as sharp pain pierced through his head like someone was drilling through his skull. He could tell light was coming in from the window even with his eyes closed. He was sure that if he opened his eyes; it would burn through his retinas, blinding him.

"How are you feeling, Thomas?" It was Brenda's voice. Thomas groaned in response.

"You were touch and go for a while there." She continued; concern laced in her tone.

Thomas tried to move but his hands and feet were tied down. His eyes shot open as he panicked, a scream escaping him as the light burned him.

"Stop! Thomas settle down! We had to! You were thrashing and crying out….you kept yelling-" She paused then, as though hesitant to continue.

Thomas let out a low, guttural growl but stopped, breathless and exhausted.

Everything prior to the stinger came rolling back to him. He pulled at the restraints again. "Where the fuck is Gally? I'm gonna kill him." He spat out as he turned to Brenda.

She narrowed her gaze, "No one is killing anyone. We'll just say he's being taken care of." There was a harshness to her tone.

"Let me shucking kill him!" Thomas squirmed and pulled at his restraints like a wild animal locked in a cage.

"Stop it! Stop!" Brenda called out. "Fuck!" She glanced behind her, "Minho! Bring me the sedative" She yelled.

Thomas was still thrashing around like a crank past the gone when he saw Minho's face over his. "Thomas! Slim it!" He said sharply.

"Bring. Me. Gally." He spat back at him.

Minho shook his head, "I hate that Slinthead too but you gotta slim it before you hurt yourself."

Thomas growled, continuing to push against the restraints in an attempt to free himself. Then he felt a prick against his skin of his neck, and he slipped back into unconsciousness, a series of dreams playing through his mind.

_Thomas was frozen in the same spot long after his friends were taken into the maze that he helped build. The words, 'There is nothing I could do' played in his mind endlessly. It hadn't been him yet somehow the words escaped his lips. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of the look of betrayal on their faces, especially Newt's, as they left him behind._

He groaned, shifting slightly on the bed.

_After Teresa hauled away Ben; Thomas looked back at the screen as Gally thrashed and screamed during what they called "the changing"._

"_He betrayed us! He betrayed us all! That snake! That shucking snake!" He lashed out wildly, his eyes wide and bloodshot._

_A pang of guilt ran through Thomas. He quickly got up and walked out of the room. He couldn't watch any more of it._

Thomas was then plummeting down again; except all he saw was the suffering of others and the cost of the maze and the so-called trials. It was all done for the sake of some shuck cure that didn't exist. The variables never mattered. None of it mattered. He sank deeper into the abyss of his mind.

_It was the day before the first insertion into the maze. Thomas kept finding himself spacing out during lunch. He hated that he was sending his friends off into the maze. He knew it was for the greater good, but he didn't like that they were leaving him. Especially Newt. That hurt the worst. He got up from the table and threw the uneaten contents of the food into the trash can and placed the tray on top of it. He headed out into the hallway._

_He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His brows shot up, surprised to see Newt. He hadn't heard him come up behind him._

"_What's wrong, Tommy?" He spoke quietly._

_Thomas' stomach churned with guilt. "N-nothin. I'm fine." He lied._

_Newt stared at him, "Bloody liar." He spoke sternly._

_Thomas glanced back as a few of the people started to stare at Thomas and Newt. "Not here." He whispered as he turned away from the others._

_Newt nodded without glancing at the other people. They headed toward Thomas' room. Once in his room, Newt crossed his arms across his chest and pointed to the bed. "Sit. Explain." He demanded._

_Thomas was too mentally exhausted to argue so he went to sit down on the bed. He again had the urge to divulge what he knew about the maze. The grievers, the optical illusions, everything. He didn't like keeping all of that from them, but he knew he couldn't risk the whole operation like that. Not when they were inching closer to the cure. It was what made it all worth it. That's what he kept telling himself, anyway. _

_It didn't make the fact that his friends were going in tomorrow without him any easier. He didn't know how long they would be in the maze, so he had no idea when he'd see them again._

_He had to say something. Anything. His shoulders sagged; he had no words. Newt remained standing for a few moments, arms crossed, giving him a stern look. Finally, he let out a sigh and moved to sit next to Thomas on the bed. Thomas felt his eyes on him even though he was staring at his own feet._

"_Seriously, Tommy. What's wrong?" Newt spoke softly this time._

_Thomas glanced at the other boy, tears in his eyes. "This whole thing is so messed up, Newt. I can't take it. Cure or not; I am sick of everything." He wanted to tell him how much he'd miss him while he was in the maze. There were so many things he wanted to say but he knew he was limited on what he could say._

"_Tommy…" He began, brows furrowed in concern, scooting closer to Thomas. "I hate this place too. I have hated it every lovin' day we've been here. But I-I stopped thinking of escape so much since you got here. I-I'd follow you anywhere, you know." He stammered out, purposely avoiding Thomas' gaze._

_Thomas stared back at his friend in surprise. "Really?"_

"_Yeah, of course. You're my best friend and I-" Newt trailed off suddenly, his cheeks flushing red._

_Thomas smiled broadly, elated by the admission of the other boy. "You're mine too! The best." He felt the same about Teresa, yet this was different somehow. "You what?" He added with an inquisitive look._

_Newt paused; Thomas could see the wheels turning in his head. His brows raised as Newt leaned forward and pressed his lips against Thomas', closing his eyes as he closed the gap between them. Thomas froze at first, unsure what to do. What were they doing? Did he want this? Then he relaxed, allowing his lips to move against Newt's. It just felt right. No matter what happened; in that moment he knew he'd remember it forever._

The memory floated away, hovering over him as he laid in a pitch-black room. A flash of the moment right before his memories were taken, appeared before him. They took them despite striking a deal with WICKED that he'd go into the maze with them intact. The realization of their betrayal sent surges of rage radiating through him.

Then the bubbles popped the way it had when he had lost his memories. For a moment, he thought the wipe was happening all over again. Just as quickly all of the memories came flooding back and sticking. Nothing faded like the last time. It was different this time. He could feel it.

"Newt!" He yelled out as his eyes shot open, his wild gaze searching the room frantically.


	9. Chapter 8

Thomas panted heavily as he laid there, soaked head to toe with his own sweat. His eyes darted around at his surroundings. He was in the medical center again. He noticed several people by his side as he started to calm down and regain his composure. He attempted to move his arms, but they were still tied down. He grunted but didn't fight them too much. He figured it was done for a reason.

"Thomas? Are you alright?" Brenda asked with worry written all over her features.

He swallowed, wincing in pain. His mouth was dry like he'd been yelling for hours. "Yeah." He managed to croak out.

"Ya gotta stop doing this klunk to us, shank." Minho added with a bit of a smirk.

"This time I didn't do it on purpose." He started coughing.

Brenda brought a glass of water to his lips and Thomas took a few sips. "Can you shanks untie me now?" He grunted.

"Oh, right, yeah." Brenda untied his arms and legs from the bed. He rubbed at his wrists, suspecting he had been tied up for some time.

"What the—-why—-where is that slinthead Gally?" Thomas sputtered out. He was seething.

Brenda frowned. "We aren't sure...he's good at hiding." She replied with uncertainty in her voice.

Thomas furrowed his brows, "You said he was being taken care of...right?" He was shrouded with doubt about a lot of things, including Brenda and Jorge.

Thomas paused before continuing. "I met you before. It wasn't just Gally who knew you. We went to The Scorch to test our ability to communicate telepathically at a distance." His voice was regaining its momentum.

Minho turned to stare at Thomas and Brenda skeptically.

"You two were assigned to be in The Scorch." Thomas continued. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Brenda signed. "I tried. I tried while in Denver. You said it didn't matter!" She countered, his first question about Gally left unanswered.

"What about what you said about trusting Chancellor Ava Paige?" He growled, frustrated at his inability to shout. "How do I know you weren't playing me along? You led me—all of us along that whole time! You led us here!" Thomas was shaking with fury.

"Ever since we went through the Scorch together, I've only been on your side, Thomas! I had worked with WICKED before but that's the only reason I knew things!" She bit her lip and glanced away.

Thomas thought she was still hiding something. He stared back at her a few moments and then shook his head, "I guess it doesn't really matter." He remained suspicious but he let it go for now. A thousand memories played in his head at once. He felt like his insides were buzzing.

"So, you got all your memories back, huh?" They all turned to stare at Jake who stood at the doorway with a stormy expression.

"Jake." Thomas spoke barely above a whisper.

"Remember anything useful?" His tone was cold, distant.

"I dunno. Why? Where have you been?" He countered.

Jake sighed. "Hope it wasn't a wasted effort."

Thomas' eyes widened like saucers. "What are you talking about?" He hissed.

Jake stoically stared over Thomas' shoulder. Despite his unreadable features; Thomas could tell he was trying to work through something.

"Gally, Aris and I have been working on an idea, ever since WICKED returned and you idiots wanted to chase them." He ran a hand through his ginger locks. "We needed you to get your memories back. We knew you'd never do it willingly."

Thomas gaped at him in shock. "So you decided for me? For the greater good, right?" Thomas spat out as he sat upright.

Jake eyes widened in fear. "No...for your own good. For _your _plan." It was clear he still did not agree with it.

On some level Thomas understood the logic but all he felt was the betrayal of someone he cared deeply for. Just like most people in his life.

"Get the fuck away from me before I punch you in your shuck face." He growled dangerously.

Jake stared at Thomas, jaw slacking, eyes darkened with a mix of anger and sadness. He took a few steps back, turned and left.

Thomas was still seething as Minho entered, a brow raising at Jake's departure.

"Did you know about their shuck plan?" Thomas snapped at the former keeper.

For a moment Minho appeared taken aback. Then his eyes narrowed furiously. "No, you dumb shank. But thanks for your vote of confidence." He said with biting, humorless sarcasm.

Thomas' lips curled into a snarl as he glared suspiciously at Minho a few moments and then relaxed his features.

His features softened. "Sorry. Hard to know who's on our side."

Minho scuffed, "As always."

"They _are_ on your side, Thomas. They thought it was better to have all the information from your past so we can use it to our advantage when taking them down. I don't agree to their methods, but I get why they did it." Brenda cut in.

Thomas knew what she said was true, but it didn't squelch the unease it created in the pit of his stomach. He could deal with Gally or Aris betraying him, but Jake? No. He could feel his insides being squeezed by an invisible fist.

He forced it out of his mind as he stood. "Well now that is over with let's get going. WICKED is waiting for us." He spoke out through gritted teeth.

"You sure you're OK?" Minho stared at him with distant concern.

"Yep. Let's go." Thomas was already partly out the door.

He could have sworn he saw Brenda and Minho exchange looks but he paid little heed to it. After a moment, he heard footsteps behind him. Recalled memories came flooding back to him in an instant, becoming imprinted into his mind.

He recalled how difficult it was to leave his mom at barely five years old. Other memories continued to flow through him like a tsunami. He saw the first time he met Teresa and the others, the agony of the Purge, the escape plan, and the ultimate betrayal of Ava Paige. It was in every fiber of his being. It became another driving force of determination to rescue Newt, if alive, and take down WICKED once and for all.

Shortly after sunrise, he stopped a short distance from the tree houses. He turned to wait for Brenda and Minho to catch up. "OK. Is it just us then?" He crossed his arms across his chest.

"Don't think you're leaving without me, _hermano_." Jorge's voice came in from the distance.

"We are coming too. I know you hate us for what we did but you need us, shank." Gally rasped out. Jake and Aris stood beside him in silence.

"Shuck staying behind; I'm coming too." Frypan smirked as he approached.

"Us too." Thomas' brows shot up in surprise when he saw the sources of the voices.

"Sonya? Harriet?" Thomas inquired.

For some reason he glanced at Aris. He appeared to be as shocked as he was.

"You think you're going to do this without us?" Harriet said with a bit of a smirk, a hint of mischief in her chestnut-eyed gaze. Her black hair, which was once cut short to her scalp, was in a short braid with a bit of fringe over her dark brown skin.

"Especially since Newt is _my_ brother." Sonya added in a slightly softer tone.

Thomas frowned. He remembered that Sonya was his sister now. He studied her for resemblance. Her hair was blond like Newt's but with a reddish tint. She was paler than he was but had the same square jaw. Her bright emerald eyes were a vast contrast to Newt's. His eyes were hickory, dark yet inviting and kind. The night the siblings had said goodbye to each other before entering the maze played out in his head. He had the fleeting urge to hug her but resisted. He had more important things to worry about. He was concerned their group was becoming a bit of a crowd. Then again, he realized that in order to take down WICKED; they were going to need numbers.

"Fine. Brenda make sure everyone is in the same page as us. Minho-let's go get things ready for the newcomers." Thomas wanted to speak to him alone.

Minho nodded. He seemed relieved that he didn't have to deal with the girls of group B. Thomas and Minho walked in silence.

"We can't take the shanks that arranged a second round of the changing for you, let alone those girls who once almost tried to kill you. I don't trust them." Minho broke the silence upon arrival.

"Yeah, I get that, but we need as many bodies as possible. Besides, everyone seems to be as against WICKED as we are. And if we find out they aren't we'll kill them." Thomas was almost surprised by the ease he said it with.

Minho gaped at him a moment and then furrowed his brows, giving Thomas a nod in confirmation. "Good that." He replied gruffly.

Thomas and Minho fell into a lull of silence as they prepped for the journey. As soon as they finished, they joined the others. They were finally ready to go.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Thomas and Minho led the way. Thomas held the Launcher while Minho had the clippers in case they had to cut through the forest. Jorge was navigating with the map while Brenda took the rear. The rest of them fell in between, wielding various weapons.

The woods became vaster as they pushed further toward the outside of the Safe Haven. After five miles they took a short break. The terrain beyond appeared to be untamed, dangerous. Thomas reasoned it couldn't be worse than the treacherous terrain of the Scorch.

They sat down as they ate. Thomas found himself staring back at the Safe Haven. When they first arrived, he thought they were finally safe. He had wanted to believe that so badly that he foolishly pushed away any suspicions he might have had, including those pertaining to Brenda. She seemed to know something he didn't. Instead of investigating, they kissed on the hill as they clung to naive beliefs.

He turned his head, eying Brenda closely. He wondered what she wasn't telling him that day. He glanced away from Brenda and finished his food. He got up and brushed off his pants before heading over toward where Minho sat alone.

"Need to show ya something." Thomas spoke gruffly.

Minho stared at him, unfazed. He finished his own food silently and followed Thomas away from the group despite the curious gazes of those left behind.

He crossed his arms across his chest, waiting impatiently for Thomas to start speaking.

Thomas cleared his throat, "We need to talk more about alliances. I kept thinking about Brenda and the stuff I mentioned earlier." He started.

Minho narrowed his eyes slightly. "Is there more? What else is there?"

Thomas explained everything he knew about and the questions he had. There were plenty of holes in her story. After he finished, he went quiet. Silence fell between them; he could see the wheels in Minho's head churning.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Yeah something seems suspicious about her and that shuckhead Jorge. I never did trust those shanks." He shook his head slightly.

"We need to keep an eye on them. Along with Gally, Aris, Sonya, Harriet, and your boyfriend Jake." Minho scuffed. "This is our crew to stop WICKED? The only shank I trust other than you is Frypan. We should have gone alone." He stated.

"He is not my boyfriend!" Thomas snapped, gritting his teeth.

Minho smirked and rolled his eyes.

Thomas shot him a glare before continuing. "Sonya wouldn't betray us. She's Newt's sister. Besides, we both know that Harriet, Sonya and the rest of group B were manipulated into thinking they had to kill me. That whole situation was WICKED's doing. I trust them." He told him.

Minho wrinkled his nose as he seemed to consider what Thomas was saying. "Good that." He stated. "But that doesn't mean I trust the other shanks. What if all of them are secretly working with WICKED and we are being lured into a trap?"

Thomas frowned. Gally himself had mentioned a mole. Did he say it to mislead him? He rubbed his temples with his fingers. "I know, I know...but if there is any way he's there—" He trailed off.

Minho's expression softened. "I know, man. I know. We can't take the chance." There was determination in his voice. He and Newt were practically brothers.

"Guess we will see. Keep your gun handy. Remember, traitors are shot on sight." An edge of fury was evident in Thomas' voice.

Minho nodded his head. "Well enough chattin' like a couple of hens. Time to get moving. And guess what? I get the launcher and you get to clear all the klunk in our way!" He smirked at Thomas.

Thomas rolled his eyes, but he was smirking too, despite the grave nature of his own words just moments before.

"Good that." He agreed before turning and heading back to the group.

Thomas ignored the questioning glances from the others and led the way into the untamed forest. It was as unruly as it looked from afar. They made their way slowly through the woods. It was much worse than when he had to cut vines to leave breadcrumbs in the maze. He ended up taking a break after a few hours so that Minho could take over. Brenda held the launcher despite Thomas' hidden reservations.

Only a few hours passed before the sun started to wane and their exhaustion became evident. Once it was established that they needed to stop for the night, they built a fire, settled in, and ate.

No one felt like talking. There was a glumness that held in the air around them. Thomas wasn't sure if it was the depth of the forest that they slowly trekked through or the mission itself. Thomas wondered how they were going to succeed. He knew how powerful WICKED was before and if they were still riding around in Bergs there was no doubt in his mind that they still were.

After dinner, they sat around staring at the fire. One by one they headed to bed. Thomas found a spot on the ground to sleep on and drifted off quickly.

His dreams winded through more of his old memories. They whisked by him quickly, yet somehow, remained vivid in his mind. He saw Minho freaking out after getting the device put in his head, the first time he was shown the maze, and the horrors of the Crank pit. It was met by a silent darkness that was deafening.

Then he was sixteen again. He finalized his plan to go into the maze with his memories intact and escape with the other Gladers. He was done being a lab rat. Ava Paige had agreed to them going in with their memories, none the wiser to their escape plans. Or so he thought. Thomas saw himself in the exam chair, stricken with fear at the realization that he was drugged.

He watched his past self as the bubbles popped just as they did before. His history, erased. The emptiness enveloped him like a blanket that didn't give him any warmth. Every memory he lost made him colder inside until he was shivering. Then his body was consumed by shocks of agony he didn't recall experiencing before. It happened repeatedly but most of the words were blurred even now.

'What is your name?' It was Randall. The name came rushing back to him causing chills to run down his spine.

'Thomas.' His tiny voice had replied. He didn't look older than five.

'I don't believe you.' Randall retorted.

Blinding pain pounded through his skull. What did it mean? His brain was itching to know yet it filled him with dread.

The surges of agony kept coming in waves. Then it abruptly stopped. His memory cut to the griever as it crept closer to child-aged Minho while strapped in a chair. Thomas was shouting.

Pain shot through him. He was five again.

'_What's your name?'_

'_Thomas.'_

'_Do you have any other name?'_

'_No. Only Thomas.'_

'_Has anyone ever called you anything else?'_

'_No. Only Thomas.'_

_Will you ever forget your name? Will you ever use another?'_

'_No.'_

'_OK. Then I'll give you one last reminder.'_

Another jolt ran through him, consuming him.

_Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. My name is Thomas. _It whispered everywhere at once.

Thomas jolted up abruptly, sweating, and haunted. He gasped for breath as though he was drowning. He could still hear the repetitive mantra running through his mind. Tears stung his eyes as he flipped on his torch and staggered to the darkness of the fire pit. He turned off the light after he sat down, staring into the emptiness of the stack of wood that once stood aflame. For the first time in over three years he allowed himself to fully break down and cry.

He didn't stop, even when Jake came over, their torches illuminating them both.

"Are you OK?" He asked tentatively as he sat beside Thomas.

He glared at him. "No shuckface, I'm not." He retorted.

Jake went silent for a few moments. It infuriated him more than when he spoke.

"I dreamed of my childhood that you helped make me remember. Thanks so much for that." His tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Look I—"

"Save it." Thomas interjected. "It sucks that you were rounded up by WICKED and put in that shuck maze, but it pales in comparison to those of us raised in their facility. I was better off without the memories." He spat venomously.

"I get it. You have shit memories. But they are also useful. That's what Aris and Gally both said. There is worth to them. It's important." Jake insisted.

A fury built up inside of him; his insides felt like the lightning storm back in the Scorch. He could feel it pulsing through every vein in his body. Jake started to speak again but Thomas couldn't hear him.

Thomas tackled the man to the ground, pinning him down with his weight. His fists swung wildly at his face. His knuckles stung in pain as he made contact, but he didn't care. Then in a heartbeat; the tides turned, and Thomas found himself on his back, an explosion of pain bursting through his jawline. Jake had rolled on top.

Thomas let out a grunt of frustration, spitting out blood as he shifted his weight to get back on top. Jake maneuvered his body in attempt to regain the upper hand. Soon they were rolling around on the ground and swinging aimlessly at each other whenever they could. Thomas knew he had to tip the odds in his favor. As Thomas shifted back on top, he shifted his legs so that they pinned Jake's arms down at the elbows. Jake quickly held onto Thomas' forearms, grasping for any semblance of control. Thomas kept a strong hold as his fists contacted Jake's face repeatedly.

"Shuck your greater good klunk." He snarled out.

An unexpected guttural outcry erupted from Jake as he bucked his weight slightly sideways as his feet grasped hold of Thomas'. With Thomas' weight slightly off kilter, Jake shifted his weight to roll himself on top again.

Jake panted heavily as he wreaked havoc on Thomas' face, the spikes of agony reminded him of his dream.

Thomas spat more blood on the ground as he retained his ground and pulled on top again. His hands wrapped around Jake's neck as he choked him. He heard Jake desperately gasp for air from under him, but Thomas didn't stop. The other man's body flailed about, trying to break free but Thomas' grip was too strong for the man who was quickly losing air.

Just as the man lost his ability to remain conscious, something in Thomas' mind clicked. He was killing him. He faltered as he shot Newt again in his mind's eye. His hands quickly slid off his neck. He leaned forward, his head resting on Jake's chest as he sobbed.

Jake's body froze beneath him. For a moment, Thomas thought he was too late, and he was dead. Then he felt Jake's hands run through his hair.

"Thomas." He spoke breathlessly.

Thomas brought his head up, sobs ceasing as abruptly as they began, the way he said his name triggering something deep inside of him. His heart pounded as he pulled himself up, so he was eye level with Jake as he straddled him. Thomas lunged forward as his lips attacked the other man's fiercely, blatantly ignoring the piercing affliction of his injuries. Jake hesitated a moment before meeting Thomas' lips roughly in return.

The taste of metal filled his mouth. They were both bleeding. It didn't stop Thomas from pursuing his lips hungrily. He was a man possessed by lust.

Jake groaned as his hands glided down Thomas' sides and slid his hands under his shirt. He gasped at the touch on his bare flesh, an instant tent pitching in his pants.

"Jake." He said breathlessly into his lips.

Jake responded by grinding slowly against him; his own hardened member pressed against Thomas' as his hands ascended upward to his bare chest. Thomas grabbed hold of Jake's ginger locks, causing an outcry to escape the man's lips.

Thomas froze as someone loudly cleared their throat. Jake didn't seem to hear as his lips kissed down his jawline. He moaned despite himself, tilting his head back to give better access.

Someone cleared their throat again as they shined the light of their torch on them. This time, Jake froze too. Thomas slowly pulled himself off of Jake, finally feeling the full weight of their fight. He groaned loudly. His whole body ached, but it was his face that throbbed the most. He managed to sit up with some difficulty. Jake didn't move much as he laid on the ground.

Thomas' eyes widened as he faced the rest of the group. He opened his mouth, only managing to sputter a bit. He turned his head to spit more blood out of his mouth.

"The shuck? Are you trying to wake the whole forest you dumb shanks?" Minho hissed our angrily.

Thomas had no idea how to answer that. He turned to Jake, frowning as he managed to help the man up to a sitting position. In the light Thomas could see him reach for the bridge of his crooked nose and squeeze. His shirt was covered in blood. He glanced down. So was his. In the heat of the moment he barely noticed blood other the metal taste of his kisses.

"I guess you forgive him then, huh, shank." Gally's raspy voice cut in.

"Seriously?" Brenda added.

"You two are shucking idiots. We can't do klunk in the middle of the night so we will look at your injuries in the morning." Minho shook his head in dismay.

"Try not to make a bunch of noise and get us killed." Brenda snapped angrily.

"Sorry…" Thomas replied in a muffled voice.

Jake grunted. He hoped it was the same sentiment.

"OK then. Good night. Come on everyone to bed. Now!" Brenda barked at everyone else.

"Yeah, shanks. Now!" Minho mirrored.

Thomas struggled to his feet and then reached down to help up Jake. The man eagerly took his hand. Thomas pulled him up to his feet.

"Sorry." Thomas said quietly.

"'S'ok." He got out. "I had a few of the hits coming."

"Me too." Thomas agreed as he took a few steps forward, gently kissing various spots on Jake's face.

"Better than first aid." Jake said, a smile in his tone.

"Mmhm. Let's go to bed before the mob returns." Thomas took a step back, his hand intertwined with Jake's and led him to a spot to sleep. Once they both laid down, Thomas pulled him in and held him close for the rest of the

night. With Jake in his arms; the excruciating pain seemed to lessen somehow.


End file.
